Stories from the Dead Island of Banoi
by Author00
Summary: Time spent by Xian Mei, Sam B., Logan Carter, and Purna, inbetween zombie killing.
1. I Don't Want to Die Here

Stories from the Dead Island of Banoi

I Don't Want to Die Here

* * *

The four immune to the virus destroying Banoi sat together in the bungalow they had taken shelter in. They were on their way to retrieve supplies for Sinamoi from the gas stations, but night was quickly approaching. So Sam B., Logan, Xian Mei, and Purna were all waiting in a small bungalow by the ocean until morning, stress leaving them all unable to rest. Well, that and the sound of the waves hitting the supports keeping the small hut from plunging into the water below.

"One day down the drain." Sam B. sighed, taking a bite from the Snickers bar that was his dinner.

"Are we any closer to finding our way off the island, you think?" Purna asked, and when she was greeted with silence, she felt a little bit of her already insubstantial hope die.

"We'll have ta get off sooner or later, right?" Logan asked. He too was greeted with silence.

It was finally Xian Mei who spoke. "Yes, we will. I don't want to die here, like this."

They all looked at her, not believing the optimism she had after all they had already seen. "You're optimistic, girl." Sam B. said in his deep, accented voice, before smiling, white teeth glaring against the dark background of his skin. "Then again, I don't want to die either. What about you two?"

Obviously talking to Purna and Logan, they were the ones who responded.

"Course not." Purna said.

"Naw." Logan agreed.

"Then we ain't gonna, are we?" The rapper asked. Everyone responded with their own versions of a negative.

* * *

**These will vary in length, anywhere from 100 words to 10k. We'll see.**


	2. Near Death

Stories from the Dead Island of Banoi

Near Death

* * *

The dimly lit hallways reflected off of Xian Mei's skin as she continued to swing the machete, killing zombies left and right. She saw Sam B. smash yes another zombie with the sledgehammer she had found for him. Logan and Purna were about fifteen feet down the hallway. The Texan was holding a double blade, stabbing blindly, while the Australian was slicing with a knife.

The undercover cop sliced once more, removing the head off of what was probably once and attractive woman. She turned to help the big man from New Orleans, who was attempting to take on four large male zombies at once, when she was knocked aside. She hit the glass wall hard, breaking through it and flying backwards. The wind was knocked out of her lungs and her weapon knocked out of her hand.

She fell to the ground, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sam B. get knocked aside as well by what she identified as a Brute, the big and strong type of zombie. The thrice-damned thing threw him through a door, and turned back on her. Reaching for her side, she felt a sticky wetness that she was horrified to realize was blood, more than likely coming from a gash from the broken glass she come into contact with as she flew backwards.

Xian Mei held the wound on her side, the zombie standing over her, ready for the kill. Purna and Logan were too far away to help, and contending with their own zombies. Sam B. was nowhere to be seen, having been knocked out of sight.

She shut her eyes and thought of her father, one last time. She thought of Sinamoi and the people at the lifeguard station, who would die without the armored truck. The again, maybe the others could do it without her. She desperately hoped they could.

The zombie raised it's arm, ready for the killing blow. She closed her eyes and waited. And waited. And waited. But the blow never came.

She opened her eyes and saw the Brute was stumbling around, Sam B. on his back. The largest member of the group pulled a wrench from his belt and beat the zombie in the head with it, once, twice, three times. Four, five, six. The monster fell to the ground, groaning in pain. Sam B. hit it one last time, and it was silent.

He turned his head to her and smiled. "You didn't really think I was gonna let ya die, did ya?" He asked, getting off of the corpse of the infected and moving to her. He pulled open her shirt, and she reached out to stop him from instinct.

He looked at her queerly. "I'm sorry?" He asked. "Ya wanna to bleed out?"

The Asian officer realized he was simply attempting to treat the gash in her side, and allowed him to continue, a white sport's bra being all that was left with the purpose to preserve her modesty.

"This may hurt." He warned, and she felt a stab of white hot pain that nearly knocked her out. She saw black spots as it was, and when they cleared, the southerner was holding a glass shard as thick as her nail and as along and wide as her hand.

He grunted. "You still conscious?" He asked her. She nodded, though she wasn't sure how much longer that would be true, and he made a 'tsk' sound. "Too bad, might have saved you a little bit more pain. Does it feel like anythin' important was hit?"

She concentrated through her groggy mind and attempted to ascertain the answer to his question. She was fairly sure that despite the pain, nothing too important had been hit. It was just a lot of pain. She shook her head no, and he nodded in response. He pulled some bandages from his pocket and wrapped her gash. Then he pulled a safety pin out of his other pocket and pinned the bandages.

By this point, the zombies in the corridor were dead and the other two were watching in silence. Despite the wound being bandaged, Mei was still getting closer and closer to unconsciousness.

"Shit, you don't look so good..." Logan said from behind Sam B.

"No shit, dumbass!" Purna exclaimed, smacking him hard across the back of the head. Their voices sounded heavy, and their images were distorting.

"She's goin' under." The man healing her muttered, before she slipped into blissful unawareness.

* * *

She slipped in and out of consciousness for the next hour before she finally settled on being awake but not moving. Mei felt a bed beneath her, something she hadn't felt in the past two days. After twenty minutes of resting on that soft bed, she pulled herself into a sitting position, and promptly felt a stabbing pain in her abdomen.

She was pushed back down before she could go through the motions herself. "Hey, you ain't strong enough, not yet." The deep voice of Sam B. intoned. She opened her eyes, which she had closed at the pain, and saw her savior's face.

"Where are we?" She asked, surprised by how weary she sounded.

Sam B., his eyes full of unexpected concern, said, "We cleared out a hotel room, laid you here. You didn't look too good. We gave you some pain killers, and now we just been waiting."

She nodded, already feeling drowsy. "Thank you for saving my life." She muttered. "I owe you a debt that could never be repaid."

He smiled, a small smile with no teeth. "Nah, that's fine. Just pull through, okay?"

She nodded, and drifted off back to dreamland. She was aware of a tickling feeling on her forehead, like the whiskers of a dog as he licked you, before she fell asleep.

* * *

**Here's this one before bed.**


	3. Why is this Allowed?

Stories from the Dead Island of Banoi

Why is This Allowed?

* * *

Shelter was shelter, no matter how bad it smelled. This thought didn't make Logan any happier, though, considering the smell of rotting corpses that seemed to be stuck in the house in the middle of the city. He grabbed the wrench from the ground, the weapon covered in gore. He had just thrown it at a zombie's head, braining the sorry thing and killing it. He was happy to know he still had the ability to be a star in his arm, if not in his leg.

He looked down at the girl he had just killed, and realized she looked like... No, no. She was just a zombie. Not the girl with the blood on her sweater... No, not the girl he... No...

"Logan!" Sam B. said from behind him, and the former quarterback turned. The big black man was half down the stairs, his sledgehammer over his shoulders and his arms resting on the handle. "We found two beds upstairs. You an' me are bunkin' together. Man, that guy better be thankful we're putting these posters around town." Then he noticed the throwing expert was paler that usual, and he asked, "Hey man, what's up?"

Logan shook his head. "It's, uh, it's nothin'." The Texan said. He debated what he should do in his mind, trying to figure out if he should say anything. Then, he remembered a book he'd read awhile ago, when he was younger. It had been a school assignment, and in it, the book had said, 'The more people know about each other, the better they act as a unit.' Maybe letting Sam know about his past might make them work together better...

After a few seconds, during which Sam gave the ex-quarterback a strange look, he decided better chances of survival were worth more than keeping his shameful past a secret. "It's just, uh... Hey, you watch much football?"

Sam B. raised an eyebrow, then responded, saying, "Naw, but I still catch the Superbowl and a normal game every once and awhile."

"You, uh..." Logan was having trouble doing what he was trying to do. "You catch that Superbowl two years ago? The one where the Cowboys won it?"

Sam B. thought for a moment, before he said, "Yeah... Yeah, I did. That quarterback they had sure was something. Won the game for them. Had he not gone stupid and killed that girl, he would still be there... What was his name..." Sam B. thought for a moment, Logan sweating bullets, before he said, "Yeah, that's right. Logan Cart... Er..."

Sam B. just stood there for a moment, eyes wide, before he said, "Shit." A plain and simple way of summing up the latest chapter of Logan's life.

Logan just nodded, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders know that some else knew. "Yeah."

Sam B. shook his head. "Why the hell did you do it?" Sam B. asked him.

Logan furrowed his brow and said, "Hey, I drive better when I'm drunk anyway!" He shouted. "Had that asshole not hit me, I wouldn't have broken my leg in eight places, that girl wouldn't have died, and we'd both still have lives!" He then turned and stalked off, towards the kitchen of the house they were in.

Sam B. shook his head one more time, not surprised at Logan's outburst. He'd seen men like Logan before, in the streets of New Orleans. Men who had been seated on the gravy train, but had fucked it up. They kept blaming everything that wasn't them, trying to find a way back to the top. They had thought that way might be hidden in the booze...

"Man, I coulda been that." Sam B. said quietly. When his music career had gone down the shitter, though, he just hadn't given up, he'd kept pushing. Logan could only play football, but him, he had other songs besides, well... "Who do, your voodoo, bitch?" He muttered to himself dryly, before turning around and walking back up to Xian Mei and Purna.

Yeh, he had other songs. If only others would listen to them.

* * *

"So spill it." Purna said playfully. "What're you feeling about tall, black, and furry?"

Xian Mei blushed in response. Despite the fact that a close relationship had been forged between her and the Australian, its binding made from being in constant contact, she was unused to matters such as these being so... Open to discussion.

"Oh, come on, Mei..." She said. "Don't even think about saying there's nothing. I've seen how you look at him..."

Xian Mei blushed even harder. "Well... It is just... He can be so kind, when he isn't so angry at the world..."

Purna smirked in victory. "I knew it, I knew it-" She said triumphantly.

"Knew what?" Sam B. said from the nearby doorway. Both girls started, remembered what they had been saying and who they were talking to, and quickly covered it up. Well, Purna did so, in her usual style.

"None of your business." She said quickly, narrowing her eyes and using the look she often had used on convicts to make them piss their pants. "Girl talk."

Naturally, Sam B. knew from his youth that look, and he caught on quick. "Okay, okay." He said, holding out his hands placatingly, the sledgehammer still in one of them. "I gotcha. Well, we should get some rest before we head out next. Me and Logan, or at least me, will be sleeping. See you in about an hour."

Both nodded, and Sam B. turned to leave the room. Before he did, though, he voiced a thought that had been nagging him.

"Hey..." He said. "I have a question."

Xian Mei frowned, not liking the hesitancy in the big man's voice. "What do you need?"

He seemed to struggle for words, not turning to face the two women. Finally, he said, "You two ever wonder what kind of God would let shit like this happen?"

The two were stunned by the unexpected, surprisingly philosophical question, answering with only silence. The large Southern made a strange sound at this, a strangled sound that was a mix of a chuckle, a sigh, and a sob. "Let me tell you what I think. This whole thing has made me realize whatever god is up is either imaginary... Or he isn't as friendly as the church says."

He then walked out of the room, leaving behind a stunned and suddenly sick Xian Mei and Purna.

* * *

**Felt like writing one of these. Looking forward to Riptide. Let me know how you liked Logan coming clean. I always imagined that nobody would immediately know him, and that when he admitted what he'd done, he'd immediately regret it. As for Sam B., well, I',m just turning him from one caricature into another. This one's just more intersting.**


End file.
